magenta_mum

Bunching up some stuff here to save me replying to several posts.

~I have lived in one house that had some old wavy glass window
panes... just now growing curious about the history of sheet glass, I
found some info that indicates window panes, even the 'old' wavy glass
variety are really quite new, comparative to glass/glasswork in general.

http://www.glassonline.com/infoserv/history.html


~When it comes to "R" rated, savoury (or should that be unsavoury)
language, the f word is most often the one heard in our house, though
K, my 14yr old daughter, recently resolved to substitute Puck! She's
chosen this based on the knowledge that the f word, its connotations
in some forms of usage is highly offensive to many people. It remains
to be seen whether or not she'll catch herself every time a strong
feeling that might call for strong words is evoked in her.

At times during my life I have sworn like a trooper, or sailor,
perhaps... and othertimes sworn off swearing in favour of exclamations
like Good Grief! which, lets face it, aren't half as satifying when
one has, for example, jammed one's finger in a cabinet, or cupboard
door.

I recall a time when K was small and just beginning to speak short
sentences/string of words, when on smashing my shin into the hard base
of a bed as I was making it, I let rip a stream of highly unsavoury
expletives. I was mortified when my tiny angel girl (gushy, I know,
but that's about what went on inside me) who was right there,
immediately repeated what I'd said in her small, sweet child voice. I
swore off of swearing for a while then. Hearing those words from her
mouth shocked me and made me question whether, or why, it was less
shocking for me to speak so.

K seldom used "bad" words inappropriately as she grew - I do think
there are times when a shit! or something similar is quite warranted
in most every persons mind. There have been times, though, when other
children were visiting our home and K's use of the f word, within
earshot of me, was followed by a loaded silence into which it was
expected by the other children, I think, that I would interject some
admonishment. Sometimes I would say something like "that's a strong
word... what's up?" Often I would break the tension by saying
eff,effitty,eff,eff! (just like that, or the actual word(s), depending
on what I knew of the homes the children present lived in), also in a
stream, but really lightly, making everyone laugh. Occasionally, if I
could get away with it, I might pretend I hadn't heard if I could tell
that nothing needing my attention had prompted the use of the word.


~I've found the threads about children leaving home, or being forced
out really interesting, and thought provoking. I know that when I was
not much older than my daughter I began to long for freedom from my
parents (and school). Not because my parents were/are awful, but
because I wanted to live as my own person. Hard for me to explain what
that meant to me then. From my current vantage point, the 42yrs old
one, and still feeling like I'm struggling a bit sometimes to be seen
as a whole separate person from my parents, from my family of origin -
even while in an amicable relationship with my parents - I'm still not
sure I can quantify that desire, explain what is/was meaningful to me
about it.

Because of my own experiences, I'd imagined that K might have a
similar dream or feelings, and have asked her about what that might
be. (I confess, too, to beginning to plan, to envision the life I
would lead happily without her in it so much. I'm thinking now, and
not unhappily, that that was pre-emptive folly of some kind.)

Anyway, K was/is baffled by the idea that she might want to leave
home, can't imagine that she will want to, ever. So, I had something
of an epiphany while thinking on recent discussions here, though doh!
moment probably describes it better. Why would she want to leave an
environment where she is and always has been honoured and respected as
a whole, separate, sentient person. She has always had the power to
*be*. She has no need to stretch, to rebel, to fight for recognition
of her personhood, to seek to establish space to express that in. She
already has, in ways that are meaningful to her, an embiggened life.

Perhaps she will leave one day, but if she doesn't, ever, as she says
now, or chooses to stay with me for years and years yet, we will, as
others have said, work that out as we go along, with the openess and
generosity that characterises our relationship.

Jo R